Every now and then a remake winds up being the definitive version of a movie. The 1939 “Wizard of Oz,” the 1959 “Ben-Hur” and the 1941 take on “The Maltese Falcon” are better loved and better known than their predecessors.
That won’t be a problem for director Robert Aldrich’s 1974 prison comedy “The Longest Yard.”

In the current remake Adam Sandler awkwardly tries on Burt Reynolds’ custom cleats but finds they’re just a little too big. Current helmer Peter Segal (Sandler’s partner in crime for “50 First Dates” and “Anger Management”) directly copies a lot the first film’s content and tries to Sandler-ize it with tedious results. There are, expectedly, lots of flat sequences involving gay stereotypes and body functions.

But much of the fun of the Aldrich original was that the filmmaker created a convincingly gritty atmosphere and managed to get the most from Reynold’s cocky alpha male persona. It also didn’t hurt that Reynolds had actually played college football as his character had done.

Sandler might wear the same Paul Crewe jersey, but it’s much harder to buy him as a disgraced former pro quarterback. For those who might not remember the first film, Crewe winds up going to prison after a bender sends his girlfriend’s car into the scrapheap.

Inside, the politically ambitious warden (James Cromwell) convinces Crewe to lead a team of inmates to take on the guards in a gridiron match.

With the help of the prison’s wheeler-dealer Caretaker (Chris Rock, looking as if he’s itching to return to a standup engagement) and an aging former football star (Reynolds), Crewe manages to assemble a motley but capable squad that actually has a chance of competing against the guards. Unfortunately, the warden’s double dealing and Crewe’s occasionally faulty moral compass could doom the team before they take the field.

Yes, it’s usually pointless to praise an original when reviewing the remake, but Segal continually begs for it. He borrows Aldrich’s musical cues and even some of his camera and editing techniques. During the opening car chase, he even borrows the same Lynard Skynard music from the first movie.

Sadly, he doesn’t seem to know why his predecessor did what he did. In the original the spilt screen sequences helped make the complicated game of football more cinematic and easy to follow. Segal simply follows the master’s technique because he has to, resulting in a narrative jumble.

Segal’s deviations don’t add anything to the story. The transvestite inmates acting as cheerleaders is more annoying than amusing, and the requisite Rob Schneider cameo that comes in just about every Sandler movie wasn’t funny to begin with.

It also doesn’t help that Sandler, in addition to being a physical miscast (yes, Doug Flutie was small, but come on!), seems to be coasting the way Reynolds did during his 80s movies.

Sandler may be getting bored with throwing his trademark temper tantrums, but he fails to come up with enough interesting new antics, and during moments of contrition, he simply doesn’t project the emotional weight that Reynolds could with a sigh.

Reynolds, who approaches the new film with a sincerity that’s sadly missing from everything else, actually emerges from this with his dignity intact. It’s a shame the older actor is getting remembered these days for the red carpet incident instead of leading the original to victory.